


Titans: Welcome to Earth

by 0venm1tt



Category: DCU, Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Creative liberties taken, Road Trips, Short Chapters, Slow-ish burn, i really like these birds, kind of an origin story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:29:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24883870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0venm1tt/pseuds/0venm1tt
Summary: An AU based on the Teen Titans/general DCU. Focus is on Raven and Tim Drake (best robin don't @ me). I'll probably do some sequels to this (particularly if people are interested).To be honest, I'm not happy with the way this is going so far. It's the story I wanted to tell, but it doesn't feel right. I could really use some feedback on what I can do better, because I know that something is fundamentally wrong with this fic at the moment. Unfortunately, I'm not good enough at writing to identify it.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Raven
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Welcome to Gotham

Raven was in grave danger.

Just now, she had finished her pilgrimage to Earth from the realm of Azarath. Azarath was a pacifist's dream, a heavenly domain in the clouds ruled by the supernatural forces of magic. Raven’s mother, Arella had sought refuge from the demonic old god Trigon, after being tricked into bearing a child. The elders of Azarath, in a last ditch effort to prevent the consumption of their realm, sealed Trigon away into the mind of the newborn infant cambion, or half-demon. Raven’s given name was Metrion, however, she took an Earth name in her youth. After all, she was half-human, and she could not risk being connected with her demonic side. Thus, the name Raven was conceived as a way to establish her humanity. It wasn’t until more recently, in her teenage years, that she began to wonder about Earth. The more she thought about it, the more she began to resent Azarath’s elders. Never did Raven have a chance to truly experience life. In order to keep Trigon locked away, suppression of all emotions was a necessity for the cambion. If she wanted to feel anything at all, magic would be the key. So, along with magic commonly taught to students in Azarath, Raven learned to sense the emotions of others through supernatural means. The emotions were not hers, preventing Trigon from gaining anything to latch onto, but she felt joy all the same.

All was well until the elders discovered Raven’s practices. They were angry and fearful, and forbade the teen from practicing empathetic spells any further. It took all of her fortitude to resist feeling anything, but the straw that broke the camel’s back was Arella’s expression. The last thing Raven saw before blacking out was shame painted across her mother’s face, and for the first time, Raven felt anger. When she woke up, two of the seven elders were dead, and two more were injured. Arella was clearly fearful of her daughter, and explained that Trigon had gotten a hold of her through her rage and committed a massacre in the council room. The survivors had unanimously decided to banish Raven, for she had become a liability to the safety of Azarath.

And now, she found herself walking along the side of a highway on Earth with nothing but the traditional deep violet Azarathian hood, cloak, and robes. It was the dead of night, she was hungry, and she needed help. Help with fighting Trigon and freeing her from her personal hell. Looking up, she saw a road sign that promised a wealth of people who might be open to her cause. Reflective silver letters read 'Gotham City, New Jersey: 2 miles,' with a symbol indicating an exit ramp. She picked up the pace of her steps, determination etched into her face. Eventually, grass became pavement, and the fresh air of the highway morphed into a musty haze completely unfamiliar to Raven. The street she had walked into was adorned with decaying concrete structures, people huddled around fires for warmth. She adjusted her hood and continued to walk. Eventually, the fires were behind her, and she began slinking through the alleys between buildings in the labyrinthine city. As she wandered, she felt more emotions of the people around her. It was a cold feeling. Dozens of souls wrought with despair, hopelessness, and anger. Worse yet, some souls simply felt nothing at all. The more time Raven spent in Gotham, the less she wanted to be there. Though she had yet to see it, it was likely that violence ruled the city at its core.

As if to validate this thought, a group of men appeared in front of her from a corner. All of them brandishing knives, the one standing in front said in a gruff voice, “Your wallet. Now.”

“Pardon?” said Raven, in an exasperated tone. She could feel malicious intent coming from them.

“Give us your wallet, and nobody gets hurt. Understand?”

One of the men in the back spoke. “Listen, Jack, she’s kinda cute. Maybe we ain’t lookin’ for money, y’know?” The other men nodded in agreement, and they began walking towards her.

Raven’s eyes widened. She raised her hands and chanted, “Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos.”

The group of men had no time to react before they were flung backwards out of the alleyway and across the street. As they picked themselves up, they ran in fear. All of a sudden, Raven fell to her knees. Her hunger and exhaustion combined with the effort of casting a spell had taken the last drop of energy that she had. She closed her eyes and drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep in the alleyway to the sound of sirens and concerned voices.

When she awoke, Raven was alone in a bright white room. A plastic tube dripped fluid into her arm. She pulled it out and sat up from her bed, tentatively calling out, “Hello?” There was no reply. Gingerly, she swung her legs around and stood up. Though shaky at first, she was able to walk. Leaving the room led her to a hallway with a pair of nurses walking in the other direction. Raven called again, “Hello?” They turned around, and one of them spoke.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. Lay back down. You have visitors.”

Seeing little other recourse, Raven laid back down in the bed. In a minute, a tall man in a suit walked in through the door, a teenager following suit. The man’s dark hair was swept back, and a small scar tore a diminutive hole in his 5 o’clock shadow. The teenager had pitch-black, wavy hair parted in the middle, and his youthful face and dark eyes bore no expression. Raven felt the man’s sense of strong conviction and the teen’s sense of calm anticipation. Extending a hand, the man said in a voice much more gravelly than his clean-cut appearance would suggest, “Glad to see you’re awake. My name is Bruce Wayne, and this is Tim Drake.” Tim waved, saying “Nice to meet you.”

“Where am I?” Raven asked, shaking Bruce’s hand.

“My own hospital. The health care provided by the city is atrocious, so last year, I opened a clinic of my own. It’s been doing well so far, given that I’ve received zero funding from the city.”

“Huh.”

“I’m glad that I was able to get a hold of you so soon. I have a few questions.”

“Like what?”

“For starters, what’s your name?”

“Raven.”

“Where are you from?”

The time had come. Could Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake be the help she was looking for? Steadying her nerves, she breathed deeply before replying, “I’m from the realm of Azarath. Have you heard of it?”

Bruce’s response couldn’t have been more surprising. “I have. It’s been decades, though.”

“Okay, perfect. You guys might want to sit down, because the rest is kind of a long story.”


	2. Welcome to Wayne Manor

By the time Raven finished telling her life story, Bruce had begun pacing back and forth around the room. He said, “So, you need help defeating a dimension-consuming demon who is currently imprisoned in your mind? And he’s your father?”

Raven shrugged. “That’s basically the summary of it.”

“Hmm.” Bruce stopped pacing. “Personally, my duty is to protect the people of Gotham. It might be irresponsible to leave the city for an extended period of time.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

Both Bruce and Raven looked over at Tim. He spoke again. “This way, she gets the help she needs and Gotham will still be safe with you here. Hell, I can probably get Conner and Bart to help, too.”

Bruce folded his arms. “So, you propose a group of teenagers taking on an interdimensional, world-consuming demon?”

Tim opened his mouth, but Bruce said, “We’ll go back to the manor and discuss this further.” Turning to Raven, he asked, “Sound good?”

Though Raven knew the prospect of going to a wealthy stranger’s manor was far from the most explicitly safe line of action, it wasn’t like there was much of a choice. Besides, if they were to kill her, Trigon would be released and inevitably kill them both. To harm her would be at the risk of their lives, as well as the universe’s, even independent of the fact that neither of them had displayed any magical abilities. She nodded, and the group walked out of the hospital to Bruce’s sports car.

The drive through Gotham would seem to have revealed a brighter side of the city. The sun illuminated the buildings, and they shone like beacons reaching up to the sky as the star's light danced off of shining windows. People in formal clothes hurried down the streets. However, Raven's spirits were hardly lifted. Closing her eyes, the same hopelessness she had detected last night remained. In fact, it was stronger than ever, probably owing to the scores of people who were now awake. She couldn't help herself from asking, "What happened to this city? All I can feel is despair."

A solemn Bruce replied, “This is Gotham’s tax money at work. The people who are supposed to give back to the people can’t be bothered to do it.”

“How depressing,” Raven said.

Bruce nodded. A few minutes later, the car pulled up to a gigantic house on a hill. The lush greenery was a nice change of pace from the pseudo-dystopian greys of the city, and though she had never been to Earth, the dark wood of the manor’s exterior managed to evoke a sense of nostalgia in Raven. Bruce parked the car and the three of them walked into the mansion, immediately to be greeted by an elderly man wearing a tuxedo. He spoke in an English accent, “Master Bruce, Master Tim, welcome home.” Between the ornate chandelier in the mansion's hall, the pervasive theme of dark wood, and the welcoming butler, Raven became suddenly aware that she was in no danger, and that Bruce Wayne was tremendously wealthy.

Bruce smiled. “Hello, Alfred.”

Alfred looked at Raven. “And who are you?”

“I’m Raven.”

“Ah, a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed.

“Nice to meet you too.” Awkwardly, she bowed in return.

“Follow me,” said Bruce. Tim and Raven followed him into a side room from the entrance hall, and they entered a grand library. Raven’s jaw dropped as she looked around. The archives in Azarath were extensive, no doubt, but the Wayne library had more texts than she could ever hope to read. Doing a quick read of her companions’ emotions, Tim was amused and Bruce was… unreadable. This was odd. Never had the emotions of a human been unreadable to her before. He moved over to a bookshelf on the back wall and took a series of books out. In doing so, a lever on the wall behind the shelf was revealed, and pulling it caused stairs to manifest leading to below the library. They descended the stairs for what seemed like hours, and as Raven’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, it became apparent that they were in a massive underground cavern. Stalactites and stalagmites protruded from the ceiling and floor, and a natural spring created a shining aquamarine teal waterfall in the distance. Most curiously, a stand bore a caped suit of silver armor whose helm appeared to have tall ears and whose chestpiece displayed the silhouette of a bat. Another displayed what appeared to be a red jumpsuit sporting a yellow “R” with a black cloak and hood. Both suits had black gloves, black boots, and a yellow belt.

“What is this place?” Raven asked.

“This is the Batcave. For years, I’ve been pursuing criminals as the Batman,” said Bruce, gesturing to the armor. “Recently, Tim’s been joining me as Robin,” he said, gesturing to the jumpsuit.

“Let me guess, the city wasn’t doing it?” Raven was mildly incredulous.

Bruce nodded. “Whatever you saw in Gotham, it was much worse before I became the Batman. I watched my parents die in an alleyway when I was ten years old.” Suddenly, Raven felt Bruce’s sadness. Perhaps the memory was too much to bear?

Tim spoke. “So, what are we going to do against Trigon?”

Bruce began pacing. “When I was a young man, I traveled to Tibet to learn to fight alongside a syndicate called the League of Assassins. A man named Ra’s al Ghul was my teacher, and he had a store of ancient texts. That’s where I learned of Azarath. It was mentioned in one of them, and I might have seen Trigon’s name at one point as well. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”

Tim began pacing. “Alright, so we go to Tibet. What are we waiting for?”

“I need to stay in Gotham.” Bruce's expression remained unchanged.

“Alright, so I’ll go alone with Raven.” The empath could sense both Bruce and Tim becoming agitated.

“Again, you’re suggesting that a pair of teenagers infiltrate one of the largest groups of trained killers in the world.”

“I can see if Conner is available. Or maybe Bart.”

“That’s unlikely.”

“But it’s possible.”

Raven spoke up. “It doesn’t matter to me as long as we can get there.” This wasn't a lie. Neither Bruce or Tim was annoying to her in the slightest, and both were capable of holding their own a fight in order to fight crime in a city like Gotham.

Bruce took a deep breath, clearly exasperated. “Fine. Go ahead. But for God’s sake, Tim, come up with a plan first.”

“Okay, great.” Tim said before turning to Raven. “Let’s get started, shall we?”


	3. Welcome Home

Tim was uncertain.

He had sent messages to Bart Allen and Conner Kent, his two best friends. They, too, fought against crime, and that was how they had met (the three of them had put a stop to a nationwide cult dedicated to killing superhumans). The messages detailed the circumstances surrounding Raven’s plight, as well as what they would be doing to help her and warning them that they would be dropping by within a few days. Tim wasn’t sure what to think of Raven. She clearly didn’t have any malicious intent towards him or Bruce, but something kept bugging him. She had told of her ability to sense the emotions of others. But did that mean that she had seen the emotions of himself and Bruce?

“Tim?”

Tim looked up. He and Raven were sitting opposite one another in leather chairs in the library before a fireplace, charting a route to Tibet. The current plan was to start by getting some less conspicuous clothes for Raven before leaving Gotham, so that they might blend in easier. From there, they would drive to Bart’s house in Ohio and see if he would join them, stay the night at a hotel, and then drive to Conner’s house in Kansas before getting on a plane to Tibet. From there, they would need to do some detective work to find the League of Assassins. According to Bruce, they moved their base of operations constantly and never kept the same location twice. Now, Raven’s lavender eyes watched him carefully. She was incredibly pale, and a dark purple cloak shrouded her entire body. Her long, straight, indigo hair was visible as it cascaded down the sides of her head and onto the front of her robes. Curiously, a small red jewel was set in the middle of her forehead.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“I can sense your uncertainty.”

Tim shifted in his seat. “Yeah, that’s kind of the thing. I was just wondering if you’d read my or Bruce’s emotions.”

Raven’s expression remained neutral. “I did, a few times. Don’t worry, I didn’t see anything embarrassing.”

Tim chuckled. “Well, that’s a relief.” What had he been so worried about?

Raven continued. “Bruce is strange, though. At one point, I stopped being able to read him. It didn’t last long, but I’ve never had that happen before.”

Tim nodded. He wasn’t surprised to hear this. Bruce was never one to let people in, and even Alfred’s friendly demeanor was seldom able to crack Bruce’s shell. Either Raven’s magic wasn’t foolproof, or Bruce’s mental fortitude was stronger than anyone could have imagined. Tim himself wasn’t bad at figuring out how people were feeling or what they were thinking. He still couldn’t figure out the empath sitting across from him, though, except for one brief moment. He said, “Oh, feel free to take anything from the library, by the way. Bruce won’t mind.”

Raven grinned. “I was wondering about that. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Tim watched as she walked from shelf to shelf, occasionally taking a book or two off a shelf. Rather than reach for top shelves from the floor, she muttered something that he couldn’t hear and began floating up towards them to observe them more closely. She lowered herself back down to the floor, sat back down and began reading one of the tomes she had selected.

“That’s an interesting trick,” said Tim.

“Levitation?”

“Yeah.”

Raven grinned. “Thank you.”

Tim nodded, a slight smile decorating his face. Raven clearly wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but then again, neither was he. He preferred to observe others whenever possible, using speech as more of a formality. Taking out his copy of Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged, he began reading from where he had last left off. Long into the night, the two of them continued to read in a silence only broken by the turning of pages, the fireplace crackling, and Alfred’s footsteps from elsewhere in the manor. Eventually, they both began periodically yawning, and their eyelids became heavy. Raven stopped yawning after a while, and when Tim looked up, he saw that she had fallen asleep in her chair. Of course, Tim figured. It had been a long couple of days for her. With a smirk, he closed his book and gently shook the empath’s shoulder. She opened her eyes, muttering a small “Hm?”

“You fell asleep. We should probably head to bed anyways, seeing as we’ve got a long day ahead tomorrow.”

Raven nodded, standing up. They left the library and headed upstairs. Tim showed her to the guest room, and said to her, "Good night." "Good night." She laid down on her bed and, with a chant, the door closed on its own. Laying down in his own bed, the teen let his mind wander. Though he loved hanging out with Bart and Conner, they were a little… rambunctious at times. At the very least, they were significantly more extroverted than Tim. Raven clearly wasn’t like that at all, and the prospect of having a friend to hang out with in a more quiet manner was appealing to him. Of course, tomorrow would be another day like that. He fell asleep thinking of the prospect of a group of his peers keeping the world and each other safe and free.


	4. Welcome to America

As the Wayne Manor’s residents awoke the next morning, they found that Alfred had prepared a verifiable feast for them all. Raven ate as though she had never eaten before, to the surprise of everyone else. As Tim packed his bags, Bruce approached him. "Tim."

"Hm?"

"Good luck on your travels. Call me before your flight."

Tim breathed deeply, brimming with anticipation. "Thanks, Bruce." Raven then entered the room, asking, "Are you ready?" Tim nodded, and the two of them walked down the central staircase of the manor. They went out to the garage, got into Tim's SUV, and left.

After about an hour, Tim found himself glad to be on the highway. He was on way to properly start his first outing as a superhero independent of Batman, and it would be with his friends. Or, at the very least, it would be with Raven. She was sitting quietly in the passenger seat, indulging herself in one of the books from the Wayne library. A quick stop in Gotham’s shopping mall had provided her with clothing more akin to that of a more normal teenager (at the moment, she wore a black hoodie and torn blue jeans). It was going to be a long ride, at nine hours from the mall to Bart’s house. At least the sightseeing was nice. Another sunny day blessed the travelers, and the sun accentuated the pale blue, cloudless sky.

Though Raven turning pages and the tires on the road made for a pleasant ambient soundscape, Tim would likely go insane if it were all he heard for the next nine hours. He glanced at Raven and asked, “Is it okay if I put on some music?”

Without looking up, she said, “Sure.”

Tim reached over to the glove box and took out a CD. Putting it in, the sounds of the Velvet Underground’s “Sunday Morning” began spilling out of the speakers, its gentle melody soothing him. “If you want, I can change the album.”

Raven shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”

For thirty more minutes, their drive continued in relative silence. Eventually, Raven put her book down. “Tim,” she said in her usual steady, monotone voice, “can you explain something to me?”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Slang.”

All of a sudden, Tim realized something. “Wait, do they speak English in Azarath?”

Raven looked out the window. “No, we’ve- I mean, they’ve got a language of their own. But I did learn English and Latin from some texts I found as a child.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

She nodded. “I still don’t really understand slang, though.”

Tim grinned. “That’s fine.”

For a while, they discussed slang and its nuances, as well as swear words and their applications. At one point, Raven laughed, surprising Tim. It was a small thing, but strangely comforting nonetheless. It made him realize that he didn’t need to tread quite so lightly around her, nor did he need to overanalyze everything she did. The hours began flying by, and in the middle of Pennsylvania, they stopped at a local Italian place for dinner. As they ate, she asked, "Is all Earth food this good?"

Tim chuckled. "Not quite, but a lot of it is still pretty good."

Once they left the restaurant, the laughter and good cheer of the patrons was replaced by the loose gravel of the parking lot’s gentle crunch, crickets beginning to sing, and cars passing by. The noise and summer warmth complemented the soft orange glow of the setting sun against a pitch-black sky. Raven looked up, and stood in awe of the sight. Tim sat on the hood of his car, and motioned for her to sit next to him. The two of them laid there for a while, taking in the scenery. Though neither of them said it, both were nervous that their encounter with the League of Assassins would be their end. They wanted to relish in the beauty of the world for as much as they could.

As they drove through the remainder of Pennsylvania and Ohio, the stars became more visible as they left the more urban side of the country behind them. Raven’s book was closed in her lap, and she sat watching the stars out the sunroof. Though music still played in the car, it was turned down to a low volume, the voice of Rivers Cuomo reduced to hardly a whisper. As they pulled into Bart’s driveway, Tim looked over at his companion, and realized something: She was cute. Attractive, to be sure (this had never been a question for him), but she was also cute in a way he couldn't quite describe.

They got out of the car and knocked on Bart’s door. No answer was received, and Raven said, “I can’t read anyone in there.”

“Damn it,” said Tim. “Wanna go to the hotel room and check back in the morning once we’re rested?”

“Sure,” said the empath. The teens got back in the car and drove a few miles north to a local motel. After checking in, they entered their room, got ready for bed, and fell asleep almost as soon as their heads touched their pillows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should note that I'm basing the experience of a cross-country road trip on my own experiences.
> 
> (also please tell me what I can do better if it's not too much trouble, and thank you for reading)


	5. You are Welcome

Raven was in hell.

She wasn’t sure where she was spatially. Everything was dark, without a wall or floor in sight. She held her cloak tight to her body and hurried her pace as she walked to nowhere and away from nothing. A booming voice said, “Daughter.”

A great red face was in front of her, larger than her entire body. Six glowing yellow eyes without pupils narrowed themselves, and an endless mouth full of canine teeth opened. “Let me out, my daughter. Let me be free and you will be spared.”

“You know that I will never do that.”

Without a word from her father, Raven fell abruptly. It was impossible to tell where she was falling to or falling from, but the deafening voice of Trigon screaming surrounded her to the extent that she felt claustrophobic. She screamed at the top of her lungs, but nobody could have heard over the roar of the demon. It may have been an eternity falling before she woke up in a cold sweat, hyperventilating. Sitting up and looking around, her senses began returning to her and she realized that she was still in the same motel room that Tim had bought them last night. To her relief, he was still fast asleep in his own bed. The clock read 3:15 in bright red letters. The empath pulled her knees to her chest and began breathing deeply, the fear beginning to dissipate as her breath became less ragged. Of course, sleep wasn’t an option at this point. She wouldn’t risk going back to face her father again. She got out of bed and, as silently as she could manage, stepped outside of the room. Raven closed her eyes as fresh air entered her lungs. Leaning her head against the brick wall, the firm pressure helped to bring her back to reality. The door opened after a few minutes, and Tim joined her against the wall. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Raven nodded. “I will be. I’ve had nightmares like this before.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

Tim shrugged. “It’s no trouble, really.”

Raven took a deep breath before saying, “Sometimes when I sleep, Trigon gives me nightmares to try and get a hold of me. He needs strong emotions to gain power in my mind, and his presence induces fear.” She breathed in sharply. “I should apologize. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Tim said, “It’s not a problem.” Raven sensed his sincerity and lack of fear, and began to feel at ease. In the sky, the stars shone as bright as ever. They were never visible in Azarath, and all of their books could never have accurately portrayed or predicted the beauty of the cosmos. She sat down on the pavement, once again bringing her knees to her chest. Tim asked, “Would you prefer to be left alone?”

Raven didn’t know how to answer that. On the one hand, she was used to being alone while she dealt with her emotions. On the other, it couldn’t possibly hurt to try expressing herself to someone who wasn’t completely afraid of her emotions being responsible for summoning Trigon. She said, “Not necessarily.” Nodding his head, Tim sat down next to her. The two sat there for what felt like the halfway point between five minutes and an eternity, the only sound being the occasional lonely car driving by. They stayed there until the sun rose, and it hit Raven that she had watched the sun rise and fall with Tim within twelve hours. The thought of being in the company of someone who wasn’t afraid of her was comforting above all else.

“Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we... friends?”

Tim paused for a moment. He said, in a calm, even tone, “Yeah. At this point, we’re definitely friends.”

It took all of Raven’s self-control to not feel joy, and she settled for Tim’s gentle confidence. He spoke again, “For what it’s worth, I’m going to do what I can concerning Trigon.”

“Do you fear him, Tim?”

“Definitely. But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t try to stop him.”

“I would not blame you if you didn’t try.”

Tim looked at her. “Raven...” He was getting more exasperated. “Part of being your friend is supporting you through whatever comes up.”

Raven looked at her feet. “I understand. For what it’s worth, I will be ready to help you through your troubles as well.”

Tim smiled. “I know you will.” He looked at his phone, which read 5 o’clock. “We might want to get going.”

They went back into the room and got prepared to leave. Once Tim left the bathroom sporting a black collared shirt and blue jeans, he asked, “Ready?”

Raven stood up from her bed. “Yeah.” Before he could react, she walked over and hugged him. In a voice hardly above a murmur, she said, “Thank you for everything.”

Tim hugged her back. “Anytime.”


End file.
